


Screaming On the Inside

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3a Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, Gen, The Alpha Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:53:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wondered if Stiles was feeling the same. Whether he was struggling to stay afloat as well, floundering in a body of water that was stretching out for miles in front of them. Screaming for help that was never coming and the only option, it seemed, was dying with lungs full of salt water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screaming On the Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Brii posted this idea a while back that was to the effect of, what if everything in the 3a finale goes wrong? And I went 'I'll bite...'
> 
> Warnings on the end

Derek felt like he was 15 again. Lost. Too small for his growing body. Struggling through a thick fog in search of some, _any_ guiding light that might lead him out of the dark. Screaming for help even as he choked on thin air.

 

But instead of the light, there was only darkness. It was creeping forward, inch by inch until talons sank into his feet and legs, dragging inky black shadows over him, pulling him under.

 

He wondered if Stiles was feeling the same. Whether he was struggling to stay afloat as well, floundering in a body of water that was stretching out for miles in front of them. Screaming for help that was never coming and the only option, it seemed, was dying with lungs full of salt water.

 

The teenager hadn’t moved an inch since they stumbled into dark basement, walking over to a corner before throwing himself down on the dusty floor. He’d curled up into a miserable little ball, hunched into himself, fingers clinging to denim.

 

It hadn’t been long after that that his shoulders had begun to shake, tiny little shudders punctuated with loud sniffs and hitched breathing. Derek had fallen to his knees in front of Stiles, worried eyes counting the space between one muffled inhale and the next. 

 

"Stiles?" Derek asked hesitantly, hands hovering over the teenagers body but not at the spots where the blood had dried. Derek wasn’t going to think about whose blood it was or how he’d found Stiles. Not right now. If he did, he might- 

 

His hands trembled, remembering the weight of Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Cora in them before he finally touched Stiles’ shoulders. The teenager stiffened, body coiled tighter than a stringer that had been pulled to its limits. “Are you okay?” Derek asked, feeling like an idiot even before he’d finished.

 

How could Stiles be okay after the events of the past day. He’d held his father in his lap, pleading Scott to help him before the Sheriff bled out. But Scott had been stoic, eyes dark with pain as he watched Stiles and his father kneeling on the floor before coolly following Deucalion out of the cellar, holding his mother’s limp body in his arms.

 

Stiles had screamed something then. Derek hadn’t been able to make the words out through the thick buzzing noise in his ears because he couldn’t understand how things had gone so wrong. It had been a simple enough rescue mission but instead it had turned into a blood bath.

 

Melissa McCall had been knocked out and taken away by Scott, who as it turned out, had opted to join Deucalion’s pack. An unwilling choice forced on him when Deucalion threatened Melissa. The Sheriff had come between a set of claws and a bullet, falling to the ground with a sickening thud. Isaac and Cora going down fighting, managing to take the combined Alpha twins out before succumbing to their extensive injuries, sluggishly bleeding out into the dry earth. The Argents… he’d lost of track of halfway between fending off Kali.

 

Honestly, he couldn’t even remember getting out of the blood soaked basement, much less driving out to this hidey hole with Stiles’ cold wrist under his fingers.

 

Derek wished he could cry as well. Surely anything was better than the cold that had crept around his heart and made everything numb. Maybe if could cry then he’d feel better and be able to think with a clearer head. Maybe then he’d stop shaking. Why was he shaking so much? Why couldn’t he control his own body? 

 

An odd croak wedged itself into his throat, like a sharp bone that wouldn’t budge. The sudden, huge sob-gasp that Stiles let out made something inside Derek crack, made his tenuous grip on his control slip and fall.

 

He ducked his head, sitting down heavily on the cold ground. Oh how he missed his mother, sister, father. They would have known what to do. At this point, he’d even settle for Peter but Peter was long gone as well. There was no one left to go to. Not even Deaton.

 

His stomach churned at the memory. Derek had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up. ‘ _There’s no one. We’re alone. It’s just us. What the hell are we going to do? There isn’t anything we_ can  _do. We’re not going to make it.’_  

 

Stiles sobbed again, louder and  _broken_ in a way that Derek could relate with. It took him a few minutes to realize that Stiles’ breathing had grown more and and more ragged, along with his heartbeat. “Stiles.” Derek whispered brokenly, rough hands taking hold of the teenager’s bony shoulders.

 

It was handling a doll, lifeless and easy. Stiles allowed himself to be manhandled against Derek’s chest, pressing his wet face into Derek’s chest as he struggled to breathe and cry at the same time. He let Derek move him until Stiles was curled in Derek’s lap, hands frantically trying to wipe away the tears faster than they were falling. 

 

Pressing his face into Stiles’ hair, Derek willed himself to remember how to cry, how to mourn, how to comfort someone else and how to stay afloat when it seemed that someone had wrapped a ball and chain around his ankles when he hadn’t been paying attention.

 

"Dad!" Stiles whimpered, hiding his wet eyes behind trembling fingers. "Daddy, please…" Pressing his lips together, Derek blinked up at the ceiling and wondered which one of his sins was responsible for this mess.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic warnings: This fic contains the following: secondary character deaths, betrayal and uuh general angst I guess. If I'm missing any tags or warnings, please give me a heads up. Passing reference


End file.
